Burn Before Reading(101)

I never thought I’d ride Wolf’s motorcycle again. I never thought he’d allow me that close to him, after what I did. But here we are, me holding the seat for dear life so I don’t fall off and him driving, faster than he used to with me in the back. But not fast enough.

“Can’t you go any faster?” I ask at a stoplight. Wolf turns his head over his shoulder.

“Yeah. If you hold on to me.”

“Is that – is that okay?”

“Right now, yeah.”

I lace my arms around his torso, and he revs the engine. The speed at which we take off is blinding – my stomach feels like it’s floating away inside me. Just for a second. Just one second of floating, of holding onto Wolf, and then everything comes crashing down. If we don’t find Dad – if we can’t find him even with this many people – I hug Wolf tighter, and try to drown the voices crying out about Dad’s demise in the howling wind of the road.

****

Bee holds on to me because she’s scared.

Not because she needs me. Not because she cares for me. I have to remind myself of that as we’re driving, as she’s asking the store clerk if he’s seen her dad in a shaky voice.

I’d ask myself why I’m here, but I already know the answer to that. It’s her. It’s her voice, hearing it on the phone and drinking it in like it was sweet honey instead of a sound. It was everything I wanted but refused to acknowledge; her voice in my ear. But it was wrong. She was hurt. Scared. Alone.

My mind went blank, and next thing I knew I was there, in front of her.

‘I love you’.

I wanted to say it to her the moment I saw her. But there wasn’t time for that. She was confused enough as it was, and terrified. Laying my own emotions on her right then would’ve been wrong. So I bit my tongue.

I bite my tongue now, as we stand on the grocery store curb and try desperately to figure out where to go from here. The grocery store clerk hasn’t seen him. No one has seen him.

Maybe I’ll bite my tongue forever.

I watch her, the way the dimming sunset plays over her face. It’s anxious, but still the prettiest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen. It wouldn’t be so bad, biting my tongue forever. If I can be here by her side – if I can watch her face the way I do now, but more often, if I can help ease her worries, soothe her overburdened heart – then biting my tongue forever will be worth it. I’m sure of that.

“What do we do now?” She asks me. “No one’s seen him. He could be anywhere, he could be hurt –”

Her shoulder start to shake. I put my hand over hers, and squeeze.

“We have to think. Are there any place he likes? Any places that are special to him?”

“No! There’s nothing besides this! I can’t think of anything, and the longer I stand here the bigger the chance he’s hurt himself – he could already be dead, and I’m just standing here - ”

I pull her into me like I did that day to protect her from the motorcycle. I hold her close, tight, to remind her I’m real.

“I need you to calm down,” I say into her hair. “I’m here, okay? I’m here to help. I won’t let anything bad happen. I promise.”

It’s a huge, terrifying promise. But I mean every word of it.

“You were right. About everything,” She sobs. The sound tears my heart in two.

“What do you mean?”

“I wasn’t happy. But hanging out with you, getting to know you and Burn and Fitz – that was the first time I’d really been happy in a long time.” She shakes her head in my shirt. “I was scared all the time that Dad would leave. I wanted to do something about it, try to stop it, try to help, and all I could think of was Lakecrest. NYU. Doing something made the fear quieter.”

She looks up at me, eyes puffed and red.

“I’m so scared.”

“But you aren’t alone,” I say. “We’ll find him. Together.”

She goes still against me, then sniffs, taking a deep breath.

“There’s an old playground,” She says. “On the bluff, just outside town. He used to take me there all the time.”

“It’s worth a shot.” I nod. “Tell me where to go.”

Bee points over my shoulder as we ride down the highway, telling me to turn. It’s farther out than I thought it was. The bluff is old, overlooking the ocean, but the playground somehow feels older, with all the layers of rust on the swing set and graffiti on the walls of the little bathroom shed. The sun is nearly gone.

“We have to move fast,” I say. “Before we lose light.”

She nods, expression determined. “We’ll split up. I’ll check that way. You check over there.”

“Good thinking.” I flash her a grim smile, but she just turns and takes off running. I head towards the edge of the bluff, a sick pit hardening in my stomach as I know, deep down, I could be looking for a corpse instead of a living, breathing human being.

It’s been four years since I’ve seen one.

I shake my head. No. I can’t let what happened to Mom happen to Bee’s Dad. I can’t let her go through that. If you’re listening, Mom, help me. Help me find him, before it’s too late.

I check the path down the bluff. Nothing. The path up the bluff is steep, and I struggle to hurry up the rocks. I crest the hill, what’s left of my breath punching out of me at the sight of a man sitting on the very edge of the bluff, the wind throwing his hair every which way.